


things today are soft

by softestpink



Category: DCU (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Local Married Couple Too Busy Getting It On To Notice Incoming Apocalypse, Pegging, Reporter Iris West, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:57:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpink/pseuds/softestpink
Summary: “You’re the worst , Barry Allen.”“That’s Barry West-Allen, thanks.”Iris’s grin is manic when she stops trying to brain him with the couch pillow and starts sticking her hand up to admire her ring in the light. “It is, isn’t it?”





	things today are soft

**Author's Note:**

> (cocks gun) let iris hang out with her husband and let barry get pegged

Being snowed in is a tragedy on par with alien crafts crashing into Central City and initiating phase one of world domination according to Iris. Barry, with his bedhead and sleep-crusted eyes disagrees, but he can tell she needs to get this out. Iris burns like the sun if you give her enough time.

 

“How could an entire polar vortex sweep in over Central City with no warning?! We should’ve known _days_ ago!”

 

Vicki Vale is on their mounted television, bundled up and reporting about how everything sucks and they live in a snowglobe, not that he can hear her. Iris is on a roll.  

 

“This entire thing reeks of some meta messing around, Barry. How am I supposed to get _anything_ done stuck inside like this? My train to Gotham for that interview with the sanitation worker leaves at nine and I was going to meet with Ellis from Copy today about getting me an in on the front page with this Grodd thing, which- don’t even get me started. Have you seen the glorified ads they’ve been slapping onto page one lately?! We might as well be a magazine. Jesus. You know what? There has to be a shovel somewhere in this building. Ooh, baby, you could spin your arms really fast and clear the walkway! Come-”

 

He catches her as she’s power-walking around the kitchen in hideous long johns and Barry’s old mathletes shirt from high school. It still has the ghost of a stain from The Cafeteria Ketchup Pizza Incident. Her eyes are too alert because she had coffee before she knew that they’d be blocked in by three feet of snow.

 

“Hey.”

 

He takes her hands in his and rubs his thumb over her ring. He likes to just feel the shape of it sometimes.

 

“You’re definitely right that this isn’t... ideal, but we have no evidence of meta tampering, and you know we’ve had freak weather before. Also, it’s the middle of January, Iris. Getting slammed with three feet of the white stuff isn’t suspicious enough for us to call the team together.”

 

She glares.

 

“I know you only said ‘getting slammed with the white stuff’ so I would be distracted and laugh and it worked a little bit and I hate you.”

 

“I know you were excited for Gotham.”

 

“I know you weren’t.” she points out. She stands on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. He sighs. They’ve had the disagreement so many times it’s pointless to rehash it.    

 

Her Side:

 

She’s going to follow up this Grodd story. She’s heard rumors that he’s back and skulking around in Gotham, and where Grodd goes, trouble follows. No, he’s not allowed to tell Batman she’s writing it. No, he is not, under any circumstance, allowed to trail her while she is on the job as that is a violation of her privacy and also just insulting. No, he can’t ask anyone from the League to follow her either. No, he can’t be nosy and ask about her leads because being nosy is _her_ job and he can just read about it on Sunday like everybody else.

 

His Side:

 

Gotham can be dangerous. No, she’s not allowed to look for Grodd himself.

 

That’s as far as Barry had gotten before Iris gave him a look that made him confront his own mortality and point blank told him he’s never in his life going to tell her what she is and isn’t allowed to do. Unless they’re in bed. But that’s a different context.  

 

He’d apologized and later they’d ended up delving into that context. Thoroughly. All afternoon.

 

The point is he worries too much and she doesn’t worry enough.

 

Also, Barry’s been to Gotham. It’s Chicago’s shitty cousin. Barry’s never seen the sun there. He’s a scientist. Logically, he knows there _has_ to be a sunrise in Gotham, but he’s never _seen_ it. Barry knows that Iris is braver than he is, has literally taken boxing classes since the third grade, and could probably knock out the average person on the street but there’s nothing average about that city. He’s already told her all of this. She pulls him down to kiss his forehead. Iris can always tell when he’s worrying. Barry grabs her waist and waddles them over to the couch, reaching up to unravel her scarf with one hand. It falls everywhere, untamed by her flat iron. Barry kisses the top of her head, knowing he’s going to get lavender oil all over his face. He does it anyway, likes to listen to the way she laughs when her hair gets in his mouth and makes him splutter.

 

“You know, a day off isn’t the worst idea.” Barry says, because he’s kind of been run ragged lately. Between watchtower construction and Singh forcing him to audit the precinct’s forensic records for the last year to make sure there hasn’t been any tampering, Barry’s been a zombie.

 

“Aww.” Iris cooes. That’s the sound she does when she’s about to make fun of him usually, but this time she just rubs the back of his neck and it makes Barry’s eyes droop. Feels good.   

 

“I know you’ve been working hard.” Barry buries his head in her chest, ready to milk this for all it’s worth, to be honest. He’s gotten a minimal amount of Iris time in this past week. It’s criminal.

 

“We’ve both been working hard.” he points out, but he’s talking into her boobs so she probably didn’t get that. They’re great boobs. The best boobs on the best person. Barry sticks his head under her shirt and moves his face side to side to make them vibrate and Iris shrieks laughing. She thinks it’s _so_ funny when he does that.

 

He kind of wants to go back to sleep. It’s still tragically early and Iris is warm and soft. Their couch is pretty comfortable, even if he is too long for it and his calves stick out over the armrest. She smells good.

 

“Barry.”

 

“Mmm.”

 

“Baby, don’t fall asleep.”

 

“Mmmhm.”

 

She pulls on his hair through the shirt and he huffs an annoyed sigh. Iris jerks and he stills for a moment, thinking he’s hurt her. Except. Oh.

 

Barry purses his lips and blows gently on her nipple. Iris grunts. He smiles. He guesses sleep could be postponed. She makes a lot of encouraging noises while he plays with her tits, some of which she tries to keep to herself but not for long. He likes it when her breathing gets choppy and all that desperation comes pouring out in soft whines. Barry’s got one hand down in her ugly grey long johns. God, how can anyone look the way she does in these hideous things? He’s convinced she’s magic.

 

“Barry, don’t forget we have to call Dad and Wally.” She says it in a way that definitely doesn’t make him think of Joe or Wally. In fact he should never have to hear “Dad” or “Wally” in that breathy way again. Barry groans, wiggles his hand out of her pants, and sits up.

 

“...I didn’t mean _now._ Get back here, Flash.”

 

“You have to know that ‘dad’ and ‘Wally’ are the magic softening words.”

 

Iris squints up at him suspiciously.

 

“You’re really leaving me high and dry when you started this.”

 

Barry smiles and wipes his fingers on his sleep pants. “Well. I wouldn’t say dry.”

 

Iris smothers him with a pillow.

 

“You’re the _worst_ , Barry Allen.”

 

“That’s Barry _West_ -Allen, thanks.”

 

Iris’s grin is manic when she stops trying to brain him with the couch pillow and starts sticking her hand up to admire her ring in the light. “It is, isn’t it?”

 

Barry leans down to kiss her forehead.

 

Calling Joe does set him at ease, even if he’s just home with Cecile and grumbling about them making him talk this early in the morning when he’s got the whole day off. Barry promises that’s Iris’ fault. She gives him the finger. They end up falling asleep together on the couch, Iris sprawled out on top of him and drooling on his chest.

 

Barry wakes up without a crick in his neck, which is a marvel because the couch is always too short for waking up any other way. He blinks sleep out of his eyes and realizes it’s because he’s not on it anymore. He’s laid out on the floor with his head in Iris’ lap. She’s rolled him up like a burrito in the comforter from their room.

 

He has no idea how she managed that without waking him up. His wife is sneaky. Barry smiles and rubs his face into her shirt. Her stomach is soft. Warm. Always soft and warm.  

 

“So I was thinking.” she starts, because she can tell he’s awake. Barry yawns and looks up at her. Iris keeps typing on her laptop. Her wpm rate is impressive, considering she’s not the one with superspeed.   

 

“As you do. About what?”

 

Iris pauses to run a hand through his hair.

 

“Neither of us are going anywhere. I missed you. I know you missed me too. And my strap-on hasn’t gotten any action in a while, you know.”  

 

Barry snorts loudly, ears flaming as he presses his face back into her stomach. His dick jumps.

 

“Oh my _god_.” he mumbles into her shirt, then pulls back to look at her again. She’s grinning. “Were you thinking about that before or after you swaddled me, pervert?”

 

“Definitely before.”

 

“Oh, good.”

 

Barry rolls over a little to check her laptop screen. Noon. He hasn’t slept in like this in so long and now his wife is propositioning him. Barry’s pretty sure he’s dead somewhere because this is his heaven.

 

“But you have to make me noodles, after.”

 

“You know you don’t have to destroy my ass for me to make you noodles, right? That’s part of our spousal contract. You get all the noodles you want, no charge.”

 

“You’re talking yourself out of good dick here, Allen.”

 

“ _West_ -Allen.” he corrects. He’s going to explode if she keeps talking about this. She smiles.

 

“ _Yeah_ it is.”

 

She sets her laptop aside.

 

Iris isn’t the only person Barry’s ever had inside of him. He’s pretty sure she’s the one that’s enjoyed it the most though, partly because she never puts him on his knees when they do this. Never lets him hide his face. They’re still on the floor. He sometimes thinks adulthood is a sham because they have real jobs and car notes and still the two of them will fuck and then share a plate of ribs on their living room floor if they’re in the mood. All of Iris’ papers and her laptop have been shoved off to the side and she’s between his legs, one hand sweeping light touches over his penis while her other fingers gently stretch his hole.

 

She’s using enough lube that the squelch is obscene, a sound he tries to block out because he’s already hard as fuck and trying to keep it together. They might not have used her harness in a while, but that does _not_ mean Iris keeps her hands away from his ass as a rule. She knows he’s sensitive there and that he’ll fold like a hand of cards whenever she plays with his hole. That, he’s thinking right now, is such dangerous knowledge for his wife to have.

 

“Iris, baby, please- please _sometime_ today-”

 

She laughs and twists her wrist a little meanly. “Don’t be greedy, Bear. I’m taking my time.”

 

He can’t look down, he can’t he can’t he can’t. He’s pretty sure if he looks at what he can already _feel_ her doing to him he’ll just- combust. Instant exothermic redox. He’s gaping already and she hasn’t even gotten her dick out. Jesus.

 

Iris doesn’t have long or particularly thick fingers, but she’s smart about applying pressure. She knows when to stroke softly and when to build up the pace with her hand. She knows that keeping slow and steady is what will break him in the end.

 

“You’re killing me, you’re going to kill me.” he gasps when she leans down to suck at the crown of his dick. “You want the life insurance.”

 

Iris splutters and pulls off to laugh into his stomach and it makes him shiver and laugh too. God, she’s beautiful.  

 

“God.” she leans up to peck him on the lips. “I always forget how funny you are when you’re about to bust.”

 

Barry jerks at that, hips coming up to jostle her, and that moves the fingers inside of him, too. He whines.

 

“Oh my god, please Iris.”

 

“Okay, okay, you’ve been good.” Barry kisses and sucks at her jaw.

 

“Yeah I have.”

 

She slides her fingers out carefully. Barry’s taken four before, but she doesn’t try this time. Instead she shuffles on her knees over to his head and leans down to kiss him, deep and languid. Barry slides his fingers into her hair, distracted.

 

She pulls away and bites at his chin.

 

“Stay still if you love me.”

 

“That’s cheating.” he says.

 

Then she’s up and walking to the bedroom, kicking off her long johns on the way. They’re still ugly but Barry is preoccupied with her panties also leaving the equation. She disappears into their bedroom and he holds his dick and tries to calm down.

 

He’s not overly successful, especially when she comes back a few minutes later with her harness fitted perfectly. She looks at him intently and then looks down to the dildo she’s installed. It’s her favorite one. The purple glass. She likes the way he looks taking it, he knows. Barry personally knows she could’ve used any of them and he’d still be getting his brain crashed for the day.

 

She’s still wearing his shirt. Something about that makes his blood run hot. Part of it is the way he feels any time he sees her in his clothes. Another part has to do with the fact that he’s sprawled naked while she isn’t. She settles between his knees again and leans over to kiss his cheeks. Cherished. That’s how Barry feels.

 

“You think Grodd ever gets busy with- I don’t know- like. Some zoo gorillas?”

 

Barry gets halfway through an “Iris, baby, what the hell?” before she lines them up and starts pushing the head in and then he’s crying out, battling the wind outside for loudest rights.

 

Their height difference is too much for her to kiss him on the mouth in this position, so she makes do with marking up his chest, rubbing soothing hands up and down his sides while she bottoms out. Barry’s gaping, eyes screwed shut while he tries to process the sensation. His brain feels like it’s been shut down. She’s just- taking. A gentle force he can’t stop. That makes him shake.  

 

She sinks in inch by inch and finally, finally she’s all the way in.

 

“Love you.” Barry whispers, feeling all of it.

 

Iris’ smile when she looks down at him feels like a blessing. She pulls out halfway and Barry sucks in a breath, getting used to the feeling.

 

“Love you.” she sighs back. He closes his eyes when she sneaks a hand down to his dick. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t. Not both- he’ll finish in seconds. She must hear it in the whimper that trickles from his mouth when she rubs her thumb at the base of his dick. She must hear how close he is, already.

 

“Not yet, babe.”

 

He opens his eyes, incredulous. She’s trying to _kill_ him. Iris must see the _how the fuck am I supposed to last_ shouting behind his eyes because she snorts and giggles, which jiggles the harness, which makes Barry’s eyes roll up a little.

 

“Okay, soon.” she decides. _That’s right,_ **_she_ ** _decides_. That makes his legs jerk.

 

“God, you’re so cute like this.” she says. “You love it.”

 

She fucks him steady, never giving into the pace his body tries to force. He’s so desperate he can barely control bucking into her, but it only drives him even wilder when she just keeps at him, grinding slow and deep.

 

He tries to close his eyes, but she taps his chin impatiently.

 

“No. Look at me. Keep looking at me.” He can’t, he can’t.

 

When he’s started letting himself grunt her name like a prayer, that’s when she takes her hand and presses gently underneath his sac. Barry _yells_ , back bowing into the floor. His toes curl and he comes so hard his dick hurts. Fireworks shoot off in black and white behind his eyelids as he squeezes them shut. He can feel tears trickling down his temples.

 

“Oh my god.” he whispers when he finally relaxes. Iris is barely paying attention, hurrying to detach the harness and get her fingers inside of herself. Her hands are shaking, she wants it so bad. Barry wants to help but he’s pretty sure she just broke him.

 

“Baby,” he tries, but his throat is scratchy. “Baby, use my mouth. Come on.”

 

She nods and kneewalks up his body. Barry doesn’t wait before moving her hand out of the way, just presents his tongue and pulls her down.

 

They’re too busy to notice his phone silently ringing. And ringing. And ringing. Noodles do not make an appearance.

 

By the time they’ve slept again and showered, Barry is pretty sure their dopey smiling is causing a contagious feedback loop of happy insanity. She’s been making sure to complain about the noodle embargo he’s wrongfully enacted even after she gave him some mind-blowing dick. Barry’s been making sure to blow raspberries into her neck every time she starts up about it.

 

He checks his phone at four thirty p.m. to find exactly 26 missed calls.

 

“Wow, who is she?” Iris deadpans after Barry says “whoa” and she leans over curiously.

 

He rolls his eyes and is about to make up a lover in the Bahamas when their front door crashes open. Iris ducks to grab the nearest weapon she can find while Barry starts to run up and then pauses.    

 

“...Hal?”

 

“Flash, where the hell have you...” he takes in the state of their living room. Thankfully, they’ve cleaned up the toys but it’s clear from the comforter and pillows they dragged from the room that they’ve been having a good time right there.

 

The Green Lantern takes in Iris’ stance and the Astrology For Dummies book she’s holding above her head like a blunt damage weapon.

 

“Um. Hello.”

 

“Hal, this is my wife, Iris West.”

 

“West- _Allen_.” she corrects. Behind their backs, he gives her a low five.  

 

“The reporter??” Hal asks and stops floating to walk over and shake her hand. “Jesus, I feel like I’ve read every investigative piece you’ve ever written. Your man brings copies in to work.”

 

Iris turns with a smile.

 

“Does he now?”

 

“That was one time. And she won the Edwin Gould Prize for that article, so it was worth being annoying about.”

 

“Oh yeah! I remember that one. The students that were making demonic pacts to have their loans erased. That was a fun one.”  

 

“Well Barry, Iris. I didn’t just show up to shoot the shit. Flash, you’ve been MIA the entire day and apparently _your_ city’s villains have been having a _fun_ time with some new weather-altering tech that’s now looking to be catastrophic for _not_ just Central City anymore. Care to comment?”

 

“Uhh.”

 

Iris face heats up and she edges out of Hal’s view, quietly letting Barry take the heat.

 

“Well.” Barry says. “There was important, I had just come back to the house. For my suit. My suit! To deal with this.”

 

Hal squints through his mask.

 

“Everyone knows you keep your suit in your ring. Like mine. Because you’re a copycat.”

 

“I needed. My. Winter suit.”

 

“You winter suit.”

 

Barry can hear Iris coughing. That means she’s laughing and trying to act like she’s not being mean about his suffering.

 

“Yes.” Barry says. “Let’s just go. I can explain more at the Watchtower.”

 

“I’m sure.” Hal says drily. “Iris, it was nice to meet you. You really married down with this one.”

 

She shrugs.

 

“I think I did pretty okay.”

 

Barry smiles smugly, grabs him, and they speed out of the door. Snow day. Well. It was nice while it lasted.


End file.
